


freckles

by triforced



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, I can't write them without some fluff, M/M, and fluff at the same time?????, dumb boys, it's a problem, this is filth pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7648888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforced/pseuds/triforced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first day back on campus for the new school year, as soon as they'd finished moving themselves in, Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi had deflowered their dorm room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	freckles

Their first day back on campus for the new school year, as soon as they'd finished moving themselves in, Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi had deflowered their dorm room.

"The high seat of debauchery," as Kuroo likes to call it. "You both fly under the radar but you might just be the horniest of us all. I am so proud."

Tsukishima blames the squeaky clean image they project entirely on Yamaguchi's freckles, of which he has many, a fair number of them located on his face, though he has them in other interesting places, too - most of those places are best appreciated when he is stark naked, a state Tsukishima sees him in fairly often. Yamaguchi's hair also plays a role; he's grown it out a bit since high school (a couple pieces always stick straight up no matter what he does, though), and he tends to pull the top half back messily while using two black clips to sweep his long fringe off to the side, out of his eyes. His overall appearance just screams 'I am one-hundred percent vanilla' to the average passerby who's never seen his goofy smile replaced by steely determination or fierce intensity. Which is fine, Tsukishima doesn't care either way, but a part of him that he will never admit to thinks the dichotomy is sexy as hell.

That probably explains why he is sprawled out on his bed with his shirt rucked up, boxers shoved halfway down his thighs, his phone at his ear, jacking himself off to the sound of Yamaguchi's voice.

"You're chewing on your bottom lip right now, aren't you, Kei?"

He is. "What the fuck, Tadashi - " He hears a little bit of rustling, followed by Yamaguchi's soft laughter.

"Sorry! I just know your face really well, that's all. I know the cute noises you make, too. I've gotta be quiet, so I hope _you're_ loud, at least."

Tsukishima closes his eyes, shifts his head a bit on the pillow. "How loud," he breathes, moving his hand languidly over his dick like Yamaguchi would if he were here instead of on his break at work.

"The way you are when you're on all fours - " He hears an exhale, Yamaguchi's voice dropping to a whisper. " - and I fuck you from behind."

Oh _god_. Tsukishima draws in a shaky breath. After a bit of squirming, he manages to kick his boxers all the way off so he can bring his knees up, press the soles of his feet down against the mattress. His strokes are not languid anymore.

Yamaguchi continues in the same, heated whisper.

"When I'm so deep inside you, you feel every inch of me, that pretty pink hole of yours stretches wide and swallows me up and you beg for it rough, so I give it to you, I leave bruises on your hips - " A long, low moan slips out of Tsukishima's mouth. " - and your arms tremble so badly they can't hold you up, so you grab a pillow and collapse - " His toes curl, his hips bucking shallowly into his hand. " - and I lean over you, I run my tongue up the back of your incredible neck - " He arches his apparently incredible neck. " - then I reach around, and you're hard, you're so hard and hot and _aching_ for me - " The needy, whimpery sounds pour out of him unchecked, and he is too far gone to give even half of a shit about whatever scraps of his dignity remain. "Just like that, Kei, just like you are now."

" _Tadashi_ \- "

"You're close, I know you are, I know _you_."

Maybe it's the fondness, the love in his voice that brings Tsukishima right up to the edge; he'd learned he was a sucker for sentimental bullshit early on, though, again, he'd be hard-pressed to own up to it. Still, by this point, all it will take to send him over is a light push.

"I want to hear you come, I'll never get tired of hearing you, I love hearing you, Kei. Come for me, please?"

And he does, with another strangled "Tadashi" - on his stomach, some on his chest. He wrings out every last drop, riding the aftershocks until he's utterly spent, completely boneless, so sated he feels like a cat who made a meal of more than one canary in the same sitting. He luxuriates like a cat, too, an indulgence he'll only partake of for another few minutes, tops - he isn't the biggest fan of dried or drying spunk. "You are a devilish little shit," he says blandly. "I must have horrible taste if I question it all the time." More laughter, though he catches the smug undertones and rolls his eyes by reflex. "Scale of one to ten, how hard are you. Any answer below ten is a boldfaced lie."

The reply is immediate.

"Eleven. Almost _twelve_ , you jerk. If I didn't have to wear an apron, I'd be locking myself in the bathroom."

Tsukishima licks his lips at the very thought of Yamaguchi waiting tables with a prominent bulge in the front of his fitted black pants, while everyone else sees his freckles, his crazy hair, his goofy smile, his polite, sometimes bashful demeanor. "Hold on, let me find my tiny violin. I composed a song for you called Boo-Fucking-Hoo."

" _Rude_."

"Fine, I guess I won't suck you off after your shift ends. Makes no difference to me." He yawns, and it isn't entirely fake.

"Keeeeiiiiiiii, you don't need to be so mean - "

He can picture Yamaguchi's pout, and his mouth curls up into a lazy smirk. "Go do your job. My classes are done for the day and I'm off tonight."

"Oh, shit, I really should go." Yamaguchi sounds flustered, which pleases Tsukishima immensely. "Bye, you're amazing and I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, me too."

He ends the call because he knows Yamaguchi won't, then tosses his phone to the side, peels his shirt the rest of the way off. After a bit of an internal debate, he decides to use the shirt as a makeshift towel to clean himself up with, regardless of how distasteful he generally considers the idea. He'd planned to do a load of laundry today, anyway. Once he drags his ass out of bed. And takes a shower. Shower first, laundry second. Or maybe nap first, shower second, laundry third. He has about two and a half hours before Yamaguchi comes back, which gives him more than enough time for all three.

Xxxx

The dorm's laundry room consists of four washers and four dryers, with a table and a few chairs situated in a corner so you can stick around if you're so inclined. Tsukishima has the room to himself, a phenomenon that has only occured once before as far as he can recall, so he takes advantage of the extra table space, his assignments and textbooks spread out over nearly the entire length of the table. Currently, he's working his way through Modern Lit as his classical playlist filters through his ever-present headphones - he always works best to classical music, for some reason.

The nap had lasted forty-five minutes, which was about twenty minutes too long if he wanted maximum shower time, and he did, so he's pretty annoyed about the whole thing; most of that annoyance he directs at Yamaguchi for being both stupidly hot and possessed of the dangerous ability to flip every one of Tsukishima's switches in very nearly the same amount of time it takes to blink. When in doubt, blame Yamaguchi, basically. He's a wild card, and it irritates Tsukishima whenever Yamaguchi stealths past his well-defended borders (they are not as well-defended as he likes to tell himself) despite how long they've known each other, how predictable Yamaguchi ought to be by now.

Problem is, though, for all that Yamaguchi remains the same, he's still changed a lot since high school. Volleyball built up his confidence, especially once he'd mastered his signature float serve. People began to notice him, began to see him as a genuine threat and though he didn't let it go to his head, he did carry himself differently (the way he carries himself to this day, actually) - more assured, less nervous. He'd always been among the hardest workers on the team and he enthusiastically passed that drive on to their underclassmen after he joined the regular roster their second year.

Watching him break out of his shell was kind of like flipping through the sketchbooks of a really talented artist - you could see the progression from oldest to newest.

The analogy, Tsukishima supposes, applies to their relationship, too. They started off tentative, almost skittish about what was okay and what pushed boundaries, circling around each other while tension sparked and crackled between them like a livewire. He can't remember who made the first move toward snapping it, but by that point it didn't even matter, the effects were irreversible. Tsukishima found himself willing to try things he might've scoffed at before, willing to let himself be vulnerable, completely at the mercy of another person - it freaked him out at first, just _how_ willing he was, but he's since come to terms with what constitutes normal behavior where Yamaguchi factors in. For the most part.

And _Yamaguchi_ -

Yamaguchi rampaged like a particularly insatiable breed of predatory mammal, utterly drunk on power. As soon as he discovered the ways he could make Tsukishima responsive to him, he exploited them all, citing his love for seeing and hearing Tsukishima lose his mind, and knowing he was the one who claimed responsibility. He'd thrived, to say the very least, and Tsukishima had a front row seat as the primary beneficiary of his boyfriend's sexual advent.

He still has that seat, matter of fact. Yamaguchi is constantly on the hunt for new reactions. Constantly. But he never goes too far, he always seeks consent, he is highly dependent on approval and regards his achievements with wide-eyed wonderment and a shy grin, except the grin becomes decidedly less shy as things progress.

Not that Tsukishima had or has a whole lot more restraint. Yamaguchi isn't merely responsive, he is electric, and he cuts an incredible picture as he falls apart. Those goddamn _freckles_ , though.

\- Yeah, they're both pretty disgusting. Their neighbors probably hate them. Tsukishima hates himself, a little.

Whatever.

He scrubs a hand through his damp hair, eyes snagging on his phone when he sees he has a message.

_hey babe what are you doing right now (°◡°♡).:｡_

He snorts, cheeks coloring slightly at the whole stupid cutesy boyfriend nonsense Yamaguchi excels at (that he secretly loves, ugh). He grabs his phone, taps out: _laundry. :p babe. :ppppp_

The reply comes almost immediately.

_baby :ppppppp_

_work was soooooooo looooooong omg_

_i thought i was gonna die it was horrible_

Tsukishima smirks at that: _jackass. (づ￣ ³￣)づ_

_wtf??? kei??? who are you where is my boyfriend_

_be gentle with him he's a sensitive soul_

Oh my god seriously: _I will murder you slowly. I know where you live._

_(∩˃o˂∩)♡_

_but i'm not kidding it was horrible i waited on this really sweet older couple_

_and the woman kept looking at the order pad in my apron pocket_

_and i was convinced she knew_

He outright laughs, but there's no denying the scenario has him hot under the collar: _karma? karma. I do not feel the least bit sorry for you. wah-wah I gave myself an unfortunate boner at work oh no._

A beat or two later, the music stops as his headphones are lifted off. "Excuse me, sir," a voice whispers in his ear, "I'm pretty sure you got the details wrong." He feels lips press against his cheek, and when he turns toward their owner, Yamaguchi captures his mouth in a long, lingering kiss. "Hi!"

Tsukishima wants to kiss him again. "Hey," he greets, cheerfully slapping his hand over Yamaguchi's face instead. He gives him a solid shove - though not before he snatches his headphones back. "Get away from me, I just took a shower and you're gonna contaminate me with your funky restaurant smell."

Yamaguchi barks out a surprised laugh, grabs the back of a chair to steady himself. "I love you, too," he sniffs, blowing a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. "But point taken, I'll go wash up. I _feel_ kinda gross." He bites his bottom lip, peers at Tsukishima through his eyelashes. "How much longer until your laundry's done?" he ventures. "Out of curiosity."

He can't be more obvious if he tries; it's sort of endearing, really. "At least an hour," Tsukishima replies breezily, earning a devastated look from Yamaguchi that morphs into a pout when he realizes Tsukishima is grinning at him. "Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty." He flaps his hands. "Shoo, shoo."

In his haste, Yamaguchi nearly trips over his own feet and catches himself on the door frame, giggling breathlessly, before he stumbles the rest of the way out of the laundry room with nary a backward glance.

And though the smarmy little voice in his head makes retching noises, Tsukishima loves Yamaguchi so much in that moment he's almost dizzy with it. He wouldn't have lasted another hour, either, frankly.

Shaking his head, he pops his headphones back on. Just you and me, Mozart, he thinks. Don't let me down.

Xxxx

But no, for real, their neighbors are saints.

"Oh my god - _Kei_ ," Yamaguchi moans, loud and filthy, the fingers of one hand knotted in Tsukishima's hair while the other slides up his chest, taking the edge of his big, baggy sweater up with it. Tsukishima doesn't know why he bothered getting dressed at all, even if he's technically only _half_ -dressed. "Your mouth is so good, sh-shit- "

On his knees, Tsukishima hums around him, flattens his tongue, slides down until his nose bumps against dark, wiry hair - suppressing his gag reflex took practice, quite a bit of it, but he's done this enough times now that he's as comfortable as you can be with somebody's dick as far back in your throat as Yamaguchi's is, which is not very. But he doesn't care, the reaction is what matters, the way Yamaguchi's hips jerk, the way he twists more of Tsukishima's hair around his fingers, the sounds he makes, high and breathy. Tsukishima drags his fingertips up one of Yamaguchi's toned thighs, cups his balls and squeezes gently while Yamaguchi gasps and shudders, his face and his neck flushed. Their eyes catch as Tsukishima finally draws back, sucking on the way up, and he thrills at the unbridled desire he sees reflected there.

"All day," Yamaguchi whimpers when Tsukishima licks along the underside of his shaft - once, twice, three times. "I th-thought about you - "

Yeah, well. Mutual. Definitely mutual. (They are _so_ disgusting, honestly.) Lips curved in a crooked smirk, Tsukishima sits back on his heels. Never breaking eye contact, he pulls off his glasses with deliberate slowness, folds them up, tosses them negligently aside. The world is blurred, but he can tell Yamaguchi's eyes are wide and dark, watching him, can tell his mouth hangs open slightly. He leans forward again, smooths his hands over the curve of Yamaguchi's ass. "Doing what, Tadashi," he murmurs, kissing the freckle near his hip bone, accompanied by the sound of a hitched breath. "Doing this?" He draws a wet line of open-mouthed kisses to the next freckle at the apex of his thigh.

"Kei - please - "

There are fingers in his hair again, tugging, insistent, but he ignores them, moves on to the next group of freckles clustered low on Yamaguchi's belly, where he nips and sucks and feels the skin twitch beneath his mouth. "Or this." And the next, right on top of the other hip bone, which receives the same manner of attention. "Or maybe this." And the next, and the next, and the next.

"Stop teasing me," Yamaguchi groans, at his limit. Apparently, he's had enough of the sweater, because he claws it over his head, flings it away like it burned him, his nearly dry hair disheveled. More disheveled. Tsukishima laughs against his knee, bites down on it when Yamaguchi swats the back of his head lightly. " _Ah_ \- Listen, if - If I don't come soon I will literally die. Literally, Kei." He blushes, his eyebrows furrowed.

"You could've gotten off in the shower," Tsukishima points out, though there's no conviction behind the words. He's just being contrary for the sake of being contrary.

Yamaguchi turns his face away, lets his fringe fall over his eyes, hiding them. "I wanted _you_ ," he mumbles, embarrassed.

Some things never change.

The smarmy voice is positively howling now, but Tsukishima rises up anyway, forces Yamaguchi to look at him by gripping his chin. He brushes the hair aside, tucks as much of it as will stay behind his ear; without the clips, a lot falls loose. And he kisses him, as sweet of a kiss as he can muster. "That's the way it should be, you nerd," he teases fondly. Another kiss; he catches Yamaguchi's bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away, and is rewarded by an absurdly cute squeak that he regards with smug satisfaction. Winking, he trails kisses on the way back down, stops at each freckle in his path.

And when he swirls his tongue around the head of Yamaguchi's dick, Yamaguchi keens - the best sound in the world.

"Oh my _god_ \- " He curls toward Tsukishima, both hands in his short blond hair now, fingers rubbing idle circles against his scalp.

Tsukishima huffs out a laugh, takes him into his mouth again - he's hot beneath his tongue, hot and silky but so hard. He wraps a hand around the base, bobs his head, licking and sucking and being loud in general because he knows Yamaguchi loves it and yeah, Yamaguchi's beside himself. He moans, his chest heaves, his hips stutter.

"F-fuck, Kei - I can't - "

Hours of repression have taken their toll; Yamaguchi is beyond done, and he cries out when he comes, a long, wavering cry that goes straight to Tsukishima's dick. Tsukishima neatly swallows all of it down (he's had practice at this, too) while Yamaguchi wheezes, strokes his hair. After a time, he motions for Tsukishima to stand, a pleading expression on his face that's well nigh irresistable. Such a sucker, Tsukishima thinks while he gets to his feet. The smarmy voice agrees, and he tells it to fuck right off a short pier.

"You're my favorite person in the entire world," Yamaguchi croaks, winding his arms about Tsukishima's neck, his eyes hooded, a contented smile on his lips.

Hands on Yamaguchi's hips, Tsukishima gives him a messy kiss involving plenty of tongue, so he can taste himself. "I know."

"Jerk," Yamaguchi says, primly, and proceeds to pivot them both around, throws all of his weight forward. The backs of Tsukishima's shins hit the edge of his bed, and the mattress creaks under him when he goes down, Yamaguchi on top of him. His breath rushes out in a whoosh, then catches in his throat when he sees (blurrily) the predatory gleam in Yamaguchi's eyes. "Your ass is gonna be so sore tomorrow, Kei," his boyfriend purrs, licking his lips.

Tsukishima is not opposed to the idea.

**Author's Note:**

> TODAY IS THE DAY OF MY BIRTH and I could think of no better way to celebrate than some smut featuring my favorite pair. I hope you all enjoyed ahahaha. <3


End file.
